Chapter 1

Before I explain what happened, I feel it’s important to provide clear context. I’m a digital forensics examiner. That means that when someone commits a crime and there’s potential for digital evidence, I’m the one who’s tasked with extracting and documenting it. As a result, I’ve seen some pretty terrible things. Images of child abuse, disturbing text messages, dark web transactions… the list goes on. So, you might be wondering, ‘Why, then, would the audio of a single murder be so upsetting?’

And the answer is simple. When I collect evidence, I pride myself in being thorough. I can prepare a precise timeline of events that accurately reflects a person’s actions as they commit a crime, complete with exact timestamps and geolocation. When I’m done, there’s no question as to what happened. The judge and jury can clearly see the what, how, when, and sometimes, even the why.

But in this case, someone made a terrible mistake.

At some point after the culprit was apprehended, their cell phone was seized and found its way to my desk, along with everything else I needed to do my job. Now, one of the simplest tactics when collecting digital evidence is to start with all activity on a given device during the timeframe in which the crime was committed.

You’ll find whether they were sending phone calls or text messages, using this app or that one, and so on. If I’m lucky, I find a treasure trove of novice mistakes. Things like the perpetrator searching “how long before a dead body begins to smell,” or using Google Maps to meet up with their dealer. Never before, however, had I stumbled upon a full video of the crime being committed.

The video itself was next to worthless, as the camera was covered by the inside of a pocket. It was the audio that proved everything. To map out the events of that evening, I had to listen to that audio dozens of times, and every single time, it’d send chills down my spine and freeze the blood in my veins.

The only thing that helps me sleep at night after seeing and hearing stuff like that is knowing that my efforts will help bring sick freaks like that to justice. But for the first time in my career—and perhaps for the most important crime I’d ever helped investigate—my work was wasted.

Because of a typo. A goddamned typo.

Did you know that’s all it takes? Someone puts the wrong date on a warrant and the resulting evidence can become inadmissible. And that’s what happened. The warrant listed June 5th, but the phone was seized on June 4th. I had no idea until after the pretrial hearing, which was long after I did my part. As someone who spends the bulk of their time organizing events by dates and times, I almost couldn’t believe someone could make such a trivial mistake.

And now, thanks to them, I am one of the only people in the world who will ever hear the audio in that video. It’s gone. Destroyed. By order of the court, the victim’s last words have been deleted as though they were nothing.

And that’s why I’m here.

The case is ongoing, and the culprit may very well still be found guilty of other crimes, but probably not of this one. So, I need to share this story. I need it to be known what happened. I realize that sharing this story won’t lead to true justice being served, but my conscience won’t let me hold it in any longer.

One brief disclaimer before I begin. I am going to tell you exactly what happened in accordance with my investigation. Everything I am about to share is supported by evidence I personally scrutinized. However, what I am about to do puts my own wellbeing in jeopardy. For my own protection, I must obfuscate some details. No real names or locations will be included in this account. But I realize that with a little bit of digging, any of you could probably figure out who this is about.

To those ardent internet sleuths, I beg of you, please do not reveal your findings publicly.

* * *

Bethany and Justin met on Tinder. They matched on a Monday afternoon. Only a few minutes later, Bethany sent the first message.

“How could anyone swipe left after seeing those eyes?”

Justin got back to her a few hours later, replying, “Lol, wow, thx. I’ve never had a supermodel compliment my eyes before.”

That night, the two messaged back and forth for nearly two hours. The conversation went from playfully amorous to explicitly sexual, each of them sending nude photos to the other before the night’s end.

The next day, Bethany suggested they meet up. “Ever been to Hanson’s?” she asked.

“Don’t think so,” Justin replied. “Think I’ve heard of it tho. Pricey, right?”

“Lol,” was Bethany’s only response for over five hours. Then, after no follow up from Justin, she added, “If a man with a Jag thinks Hanson’s is too much, you won’t be able to handle me.”

Bethany was referring to the 2024 Jaguar F-Type Coupe in Justin’s featured profile picture.

Justin replied later that evening. “No, no. I’m just surprised. Last Tinder date I went on was at Pizza Hut.” And a few minutes later, “Just made a reservation. Friday at eight.”

Bethany’s interest was reignited, and between that message and their Friday evening rendezvous, she sent Justin over twenty explicit pictures of herself.

That Friday, they met at the restaurant, Hanson’s. Justin was the first to arrive. He sat on a bench outside the establishment, where he waited for his date while playing on his phone.

Bethany was dropped off at 8:07PM. She approached Justin from behind and tapped his shoulder.

Justin slid his phone into his pocket before embracing her. They hugged and kissed for an inordinate amount of time as passing patrons gave them strange looks.

It was during this interaction that the phone recording began.

The two entered the restaurant and were taken to their table. Before their server arrived, Bethany suggested that Justin order one of the strongest cocktails on the menu. “It’s the perfect first date drink,” she noted.

“I was just planning on having a glass of wine, really,” Justin said. “You wouldn’t want me to wreck my Jag, would you?”

Bethany giggled and placed her hand on his. “I just want you nice and loose tonight. If you’re worried about your precious, little car, we’ll call an Uber.”

“Aha. Ah… maybe.”

Despite Justin’s hesitance, when the server arrived, Bethany attempted to order the cocktail on his behalf.

“Actually,” he interjected, “I’ll just have a glass of Merlot.”

After the server stepped away, Bethany leaned over the table and whispered, “I thought you wanted to have fun.”

“I do. But wouldn’t you rather we leave in style?”

Neither spoke for a few moments, but Bethany remained bent over the table.

Justin then added, “Don’t worry. I have a full bar at home. We can drink all night if you want.”

Following a few more silent, motionless moments, Bethany sat up straight and answered, “Okay. Fine.”

Over the next thirty minutes, Bethany was exceptionally cold. All of Justin’s questions were met with one-word answers, and she spent the time in between their short conversations looking around the restaurant and appearing bored.

When their main courses were placed in front of them, Justin ordered two shots of whiskey.

After the server stepped away, Bethany’s mood changed once again. “Finally ready to have fun?”

Justin made a nervous chuckle and said, “Well, it’s a special night, right?”

“That’s right, baby.”

From there, the conversation became lively and flirtatious. Most of the conversation was sexual in nature and focused specifically on what they planned to do at Justin’s home after dinner. One such exchange went as follows:

“I promise you, you’ve never had a woman like me before.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“Are you excited?”

“Excited doesn’t begin to define it.”

Over the course of their meal, each was delivered a glass of wine, two shots of whiskey, and an espresso martini. Bethany, however, was not shy about drinking very little. She had half a glass of her wine, a sip of her first shot, and poured the second shot into her martini, of which she hardly touched.

Justin, on the other hand, possibly drank his glass of wine and most of his martini. Although he likely drank less than he led Bethany to believe. The security footage showed that he spilled his first shot onto the carpeted floor when Bethany wasn’t looking. And before taking the second shot, he said he needed to use the restroom. He stood up, poured the shot into his mouth, then stepped away quickly.

At the end of the meal when they stood to leave, Bethany suggested they arrange for an Uber to pick them up.

“No,” Justin argued. “I’m fine.”

“I thought you were worried about driving drunk.”

Justin laughed and wrapped an arm around Bethany as they headed to the exit. “I still am. But I’m not drunk.”

“Don’t be crazy. Come on, I’ll pay.”

“Trust me, I know when I’ve had too much.”

They went back and forth like this until they reached the parking lot, where Justin lost his patience. “You know what? If you want to call an Uber for yourself, go right ahead. But I’m driving home.”

They stood a few feet away from one another, staring at each other in silence. Then Bethany approached him. “I’m sorry,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “I didn’t mean to upset you. If you’re sober enough to drive, that’s fine.” The two proceeded to kiss, and on the exterior security camera, Bethany is clearly shown slipping Justin’s car fob into his pocket.

From there, they entered Justin’s car and drove away. During the trip, very little was said. Most of the time, only the radio can be heard playing in the background. On the few occasions in which they spoke, Bethany was the one to break the silence. She’d ask general questions such as “So, where do you live?” and “Are you good at mixing drinks?”

Justin provided brief answers and returned to driving quietly. At one point, he said, “Sorry. I don’t like talking when I’m driving,” after refusing to respond to one of Bethany’s questions.

About forty-seven minutes into the trip, Bethany’s tone shifted. Up until this point, she’d either sound playful and sweet with high tones and giggles, or she’d speak bluntly in unemotional monotone. When she spoke next, however, her voice was small and uncertain.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Justin did not answer.

There was no video footage of either’s actions after they left the restaurant, although context clues, background noises, and geolocation data from the cell phone helped paint a fairly clear picture of what happened.

At this point, Justin had left the main road. He took a back road into a heavily wooded area where the nearest home or establishment was over two miles away.

Bethany retrieved her cell phone, and Justin slammed on the brakes.

“Holy shit!” she shouted. “What the fuck?”

“Give me your phone,” Justin replied. His voice was calm. Assertive.

Bethany could be heard taking heavy breaths. “What?”

“If you want to go home tonight, you will give me your phone.”

The radio continued to play in the background as neither said a word for over thirty seconds.

When Bethany spoke again, there was a quiver in her voice. “What are you going to do?”

“I know what you’re up to. So give me the phone, and everything will be alright.”

This was followed by another long pause, which ended with the sounds of quick movements and a nervous gasp. The car then proceeded forward.

A minute later, Bethany said, “I don’t know what you think I’m up to, Justin.” As she continued, her voice cracked and wavered. “I swear, I just wanted to have a fun night with you. I’m sorry if I did something that upset you, okay? But I’m not… I just want to go home. You can even drop me off here. Keep the phone. I don’t care.”

Justin remained silent.

At one point, it sounded like Bethany attempted to open her car door while they were still driving. Neither made any comment on the matter, however.

The car slowed down as it pulled up to a hastily built shack in a small clearing. Its wood was splintered and warped, and it had only a single door. No windows or paint; it looked like a strong gust of wind could knock it down.

Beside the shabby structure was a 2018 Ford F-150—a pickup truck, its dark red paint covered in mud.

Justin parked and turned off his car. With the radio’s absence, all that could be heard when neither were speaking were Bethany’s trembling breaths.

“Well,” he said, “here we are.”

“Justin, please just let me leave.” She began to sniffle and take short, gasping breaths. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you?” he asked, sounding surprised. “We’re just here to have fun, right?” He opened his car door and exited the vehicle. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll fix us both a drink.”

When Justin opened his car door, it triggered the passenger door to unlock as well. Although I cannot say precisely how Bethany reacted, the audio suggested that she struck Justin in the face as he leaned over the driver seat to taunt her. He grunted, and she bolted from the car.

For the next twenty-seven seconds, all that could be heard were footsteps running through the forest and Bethany’s screams for help. It concluded with heavy scuffling sounds followed by erratic sobs.

Justin must have managed to restrain her, perhaps pinning her to the ground. He spoke between panting breaths. “Okay. There we go. Now hush. Hush. Come on. Relax.”

She continued to shout and fight him for a short while, but he held her down until she stopped.

“There we go,” he said proudly. “Now, I don’t normally do this, but I got to know. What were you going to do?”

Bethany sniffed and groaned before asking, “What do you mean?”

“If things went your way tonight. What, were you going to steal my car? Drug me? Rob my house? What?”

She began to bawl, and between her wails she repeatedly answered, “No.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I wasn’t! I swear!”

Justin scoffed. “I don’t know why you’re bothering lying.” He laughed. “I mean, what have you got to lose?”

Neither said anything for over a minute. Bethany continued to cry but eventually calmed down enough to softly ask, “Are you going to kill me?”

More so than any other moment in the entire recording, there was nothing. Bethany held her breath. Justin didn’t move. The only noise was a low, subtle background static.

And then, Justin answered without a hint of emotion, “Yes.”

Bethany wept again. Faintly this time; restrained. Like one might at a funeral. “Okay,” she whispered. “You’re right… I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I was going to take your car and any jewelry or money I found at your house. It’s what I do. I’ve done it before. Lots of times… And I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” Her sobbing escalated again, making it hard for her to be understood. The last thing she said that could be made out was, “Please forgive me. I swear I’ll stop!”

A delighted chuckle came from Justin. The type of chuckle a father might make when his child says something innocently ignorant. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said.

Bethany’s whimpers quieted as he paused.

“You could have lived your whole life without stealing a single thing. And I’d still kill you tonight.” As her wails crescendoed once again, Justin ended with, “Because that’s what I do.”

The sobbing stopped, and there was not another word spoken for the duration of the video. In their place were coughs and gags. The sound of feet kicking hard at the ground. Strained yelps and guttural grunts.

For one minute and thirty-seven seconds.

From there, the video was mostly silent. Occasional footsteps, the sound of something being dragged across the dirt. A few minutes later, Justin’s phone died, bringing the video to an end.

* * *

Bethany was likely Justin’s third victim. He’d kill at least two more before he was arrested for attempted murder. What’s most frightening to me is that I’m not sure he’ll be found guilty of any murders. Every single one is circumstantial. Not a single body or clear evidence of his murders has been found.

Based on the video I just described to you—and on patterns uncovered in the broader investigation—it’s likely that his preferred method was strangulation, leaving no blood at the crime scenes. And when transporting the bodies of his victims, he was careful to leave his cell phone at home or turn it off, making it far harder to track his location.

The most likely dumping site was a state park only a few miles away from his home, but with over twenty thousand acres of dense forest, it’s possible the bodies will never be located.

It’s true that Bethany robbed at least a dozen men before meeting Justin. Bethany traveled from city to city to avoid being easily identified. She would create burner accounts on multiple dating platforms, target wealthy-looking men, and find ways to steal as much from them as she could before moving on to the next city.

What Bethany did was inarguably a crime. I’m not defending her actions. But to anyone who may be thinking, “Sounds like she got what she deserved,” take a moment to consider this:

Bethany stole objects. Money. Things that can be replaced.

Justin stole her life.

He gets a fair trial. He gets to plead his case and defend his actions.

And she hasn’t even received a proper burial.